


Miles From Our Home

by 852_Prospect_Archivist



Category: The Sentinel
Genre: Episode Related: Sentinel Too, First Times, M/M, Part Two, Romance, Song Lyrics
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-10
Updated: 2013-05-10
Packaged: 2017-12-11 01:14:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 891
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/792329
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/852_Prospect_Archivist/pseuds/852_Prospect_Archivist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes, it's in the quiet moments that the truth comes out.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Miles From Our Home

**Author's Note:**

> I haven't touched this piece in over a year, but the discussions on P-L inspired me to dig it up and work on it just to loosen up my creaky writing muscles. This one's for Marmoset, who gave good advice that I didn't take, and for Debbie and Catherine, just because. Faults are mine. All comments and crits are welcome. It's been a while since I've written, and I'm sure it shows.

## Miles From Our Home 

by Yolanda

Author's disclaimer: Petfly and Paramount own the guys. The Cowboy Junkies wrote the lyrics. They're all used without permission.

* * *

"No one in sight for fifty miles   
Sleeping fields sigh as I glide across their spines.  
If I can just reach the crest of that hill   
This whole day will tumble, out the night will spill."  
\- "Miles From Our Home," by the Cowboy Junkies 

* * *

Miles From Our Home   
by Yolanda 

He didn't believe in happily ever after. Never had, never would. Happily ever after was for other people, was for dreamers who didn't know what real life was like. 

Real life was about survival, was about making yourself independent of others, and about standing on your own two feet. When he'd been a child, he'd learned that life worked best when he kept himself to himself, and everyone else outside. He'd gotten very good at doing that. 

And then this bumbling fool had come into his life. Caring too much. Loving -- and leaving -- too easily. He hadn't wanted to let Blair into his life, but he hadn't been able to control the situation. Hadn't been able to do anything but surrender to the inevitable invasion of his territory. And now it was too late. 

He sat on the couch and watched Blair moving in the kitchen. He could smell the shampoo Blair had used this morning, the light sweat that he'd worked up earlier, putting all his possessions back into their places. These were the scents of home. 

Of course he'd tried to turn the advancing tide, tried to throw Blair out of his life. But that had only made things worse, had almost destroyed what they'd had together. 

And what they had together was more than he'd ever known. 

"What are you looking at?" Blair's voice interrupted his thoughts. 

"Nothing." He watched as Blair grabbed two bottles from the fridge and opened them. 

"Hey, I hope I'm a little more than nothing." 

"Just thinking." 

"About ..." 

"You need to ask?" 

"Well, it's either the sentinel thing again, or the you-and-me thing." 

"Huh?" 

Blair sat and handed one beer over. "Well, it can't be the sentinel thing. You've been avoiding that discussion since we got back from Peru. So it must be the you-and-me thing." 

"And what's this ' you-and-me thing.'?" Jim took a long gulp. 

"Well, you know. You." Blair tapped one finger on Jim's chest. "And me." Moved his hand to his heart. 

Jim wasn't sure if Blair had moved closer or if the world had suddenly closed in. He was certain that the room had become warmer, and thought that he should go and check the temperature setting. 

Blair interrupted his resolve. "You know that our friendship is the most important part of my life." 

"And mine. You know that." He was uncomfortable now, and barely stifled the urge to squirm, to move, to be anywhere but on this couch. 

"And I know that you're thinking about being anywhere but here." 

He thought he saw a sympathetic look in Blair's eyes, but the scent of Blair's hair was becoming overwhelming. 

"Go ahead and run, if you like," said Blair. 

He found his voice, and managed to say, "No." It came out hoarsely, but the words had emerged. He added, "Not this time." 

He put down his beer and reached out for Blair. For the first time in his memory, he reached out and he wasn't afraid of what might happen, hadn't planned in advance for all the things that might go wrong. After all, he told himself, the worst thing had already happened. He'd lost Blair, and he'd gone after him and found him again. 

The memory of fusion came unbidden, the memory of joining with this man to bring him back to this life. He shivered a little, then felt Blair's shoulders under his hands, felt the rough bristle of Blair's cheeks on his. He felt Blair anchoring him to the world, stopping his slide into the neverness of being alone. 

He felt Blair's arms wrap around him, and then Blair's hands came up to rub Jim's back. One hand was still cool and damp from the bottle that Blair had put aside. 

Jim murmured, "You expected this, didn't you?" 

"Yeah, a little." Blair pulled away and met his eyes. "And you? Are you comfortable with this?" 

He nodded, and raised one hand to Blair's face, lightly running his fingertips along Blair's brow, stroking an outline of his face. Blair closed his eyes, and Jim's fingertips caressed his eyelashes, his cheeks, his lips. He found his hand in Blair's hair, found himself cradling the back of Blair's head. 

Their first kiss was as natural as breathing, their second as essential as air. He couldn't remember why he'd resisted this moment for so long. Everything they'd done together had pointed here, from the noisy violence of their meeting in Blair's office to the quiet terror in front of the fountain when he hadn't been able to hear Blair's heartbeat. 

And he realized that happily ever after wasn't quite so unbelievable, after all. 

* * *

"I met you again in my sleep last night,   
These are days of slow boats and false starts.  
Hearts remain under lock and key,   
You will be the one to set them both free."  
\- "Miles From Our Home," by the Cowboy Junkies 

* * *

End

 


End file.
